


Four Times

by its_homemadefics



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 17:32:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1478146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_homemadefics/pseuds/its_homemadefics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four times Arthur & Eames had sex and one time they made love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Times

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this for my LJ where I wrote fics, but I closed it down (finally....). Before I did, I decided to take this and post it here. 
> 
> Reminder, I wrote this, like, in 2010. I hope you all still like it.

One. One Night Stand

Eames hums slightly as Arthur gently scrapes his teeth against the skin below his Adam's apple.

It's getting harder to breathe with all of this lust.

Arthur moves his lips up, tickling Eames. As his mouth gets closer to Eames's mouth, Eames grabs Arthur by the shoulders and pushes their lips together. Arthur groans, a deep noise from the back of his throat, and his hips thrust forward.

They frantically make their way to the hotel bed, practically ripping each other's clothes off. They stumble as Eames tries to take his pants off, and Arthur lands on top of him on the bed. He sits on top of the older man, squeezing Eames's hips with his thighs and grinding down on him, making a gasp escape every time. Eames pulls at Arthur's crisp white Oxford shirt, the buttons flying everywhere.

Arthur's lips attack Eames, mumbling, "you owe me a new shirt."

 

Two. Fuck

"Don't stop!" Arthur yells, grabbing at Eames's hip. He feels like he's sweating everywhere (probably is). The sheets are itching his back (he prefers Egyptian cotton or silk sheets, not these scratchy homemade quilts Eames owns) and he's already hit his head on the headboard twice. His clothes are getting wrinkled as they sit on the dirty floor (Eames hasn't been home in almost a year and half, and he certainly doesn't have a housekeeper).

Eames owes him the best fuck of his life right now.

"What was that, love?" Eames laughs. His hips barely thrust, pushing himself more into Arthur, who whines and digs his nails into the skin of the other man's hips.

"Don't. Stop. Don't you dare," Arthur manages to say through gritted teeth. He closes his eyes and pushes his hips up to try and meet Eames. Eames groans, which has Arthur moaning in return.

There's hot breath, barely reeking of whiskey, next to Arthur's ears.

"I want to hear you." A violent thrust of the hips, making Arthur's toes curl. "With me, you can be as loud as you want." Another violent thrust. "Just moan for me, darling." Eames thrusts harshly one more time, and Arthur seems to lose control.

 

Three. A Job

Eames is making a bruise on Arthur's collarbone, his lips ever so insistent. Arthur can't help but grin.

His grin grows even wider when he can feel Eames's hand on his skin, traveling further and further down to-

"Ah!" Arthur gasps out, his back arching. He moans, his eyes slipping closed as Eames takes him into his rough hand. He doesn't stop sucking at the skin at Arthur's collarbone, so Arthur takes this chance to run his fingers through the other man's hair.

Arthur grunts, his hips trying to thrust forward, but Eames has him pinned down with his body.

Eames's lips travel lower until they find a nipple, closing around the pink flesh. His rough hand working over Arthur faster.

Arthur takes a deep breath through his nose, trying to calm his breathing. "Kiss me," he says.

Eames nips at Arthur's nipple, then kisses him deeply. Somewhere, distantly, Arthur hears a zipper unzip and feels even more skin.

 

Four. Sex

Arthur grinds down on Eames, making them both moan. He raises himself up, then slams back down. Eames groans loudly and Arthur can feel chills run through his spine, his whole body. He grips onto Eames's shoulder tightly and brings himself back up. Eames's hips try to follow Arthur so he can thrust back in, and they meet halfway.

"God, Eames," Arthur moans, throwing his head back. This time, Eames is the one who feels the chills run throughout his whole body.

He wants to push Arthur down on the bed and kiss him everywhere on his body. He wants to hold the younger man and just talk about the past, maybe the future. He wants Arthur to run fingers through his hair.

Eames whimpers as Arthur begins to move faster. In the silence of the room, the sound of their skin together, of their harsh breathing, of the small gasps Arthur makes each time, is magnified by a thousand.

Eames grabs Arthur's hips and forces him down, one last time, before coming. He can feel Arthur shake and it just adds to the pleasure of the tightness surrounding Eames's cock.

The younger man, lean but strong, collapses onto Eames. "We have a job tomorrow," he whispers, his voice hoarse.

The Fischer job. It's a big one and neither of them are sure what's going to happen.

 

Five. Love

Arthur's staring at his feet, his hand in his pocket. He scratches the side of his nose when, suddenly, there's someone standing in front of him.

"Darling."

"Eames." He can't help but smile when he says the name.

"Let's go somewhere more private."

That somewhere is at the airport's hotel (Eames had already booked a room before they left). 

The beds are soft. Eames's skin is soft.

It's cold in the room, but Eames's touch burns Arthur.

The only thing Arthur can hear is Eames whispering into his ear, telling him that they're okay. They're not in a dream, not anymore.

They begin to undress, and it's not rushed, not like the other times before. They're taking their time, drinking each other in, staring at all the skin before them. Again, Eames can feel the chills run through his body, and he's sure, he's positive, that Arthur feels the same way.

What they're doing, it's no longer a simple fuck, or a hand job, or a quickie. Things have changed, Eames is sure of it, and he's sure that Arthur knows it, too.

Arthur is naked now, all bare and laid out for Eames, who still has his boxers on. They lean towards each other, like magnets, and kiss. Arthur is pressed back down onto the bed by Eames's weight and enjoys the familiarity of the heavier body.

"Say that you love me," Arthur mumbles into Eames's lips. He can feel the other man smile.

"You already know I do."

"Yeah, but I want you to say it." Arthur wraps his legs around Eames, bringing them even closer together. He feels Eames's fingers massaging his ass, getting him to relax, and Arthur shudders.

Maybe Eames doesn't have to say those three words. Arthur can feel that this time is different, and he's sure, he's positive, that Eames feels it, too.

**Author's Note:**

> http://homemadespeech.tumblr.com
> 
> (My LJ was homemadefics and homemadespeech, but everything's private now.)


End file.
